


Hiding The Words (That Don't Come Out)

by Verasteine



Category: Alles was zählt
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Homophobic Language, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-14
Updated: 2011-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-15 16:06:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verasteine/pseuds/Verasteine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They might be together again, but Roman is holding back, Florian walks around with the expression of a child whose parents are fighting, and Deniz's heart feels like it's going to break all over again. Deniz is not exactly the king of relationships, but even he knows they have to talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hiding The Words (That Don't Come Out)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://lefaym.livejournal.com/profile)[**lefaym**](http://lefaym.livejournal.com/) , who not only agreed to beta this, but watched the show as well, and saved all of you from my run-on sentences and general language confusion.

Deniz is painfully familiar with Roman's ability to keep secrets, but they've put that behind them, and Deniz means to stick to that. And yes, Deniz, too, has an ability to keep secrets, but he swore them off (mostly) and grew up.

In a way, he understands, understands better now than before why Roman can walk into the flat and give him a little half smile that doesn't reach his eyes. The misery Deniz can see reflected in clear blue is not articulated, and when he asks, Roman ducks the question.

"I'm good," he says, trying for enthusiasm and adding a spring to his step that belies the tired shrug of his shoulders. "What's up with you?"

Deniz wants to tell him to stop lying, but he also doesn't want to fight; there's been too much of that lately and he's trying, really trying to put the past behind them both. So he lets Roman get away with it, tries for distraction instead. "Glad to be out of the office. What do you want for dinner?"

"Is Florian home?" Roman asks, casting a look about the flat for the tell tale signs of the teenager's presence, and not finding them.

"No," Deniz replies, and tries for a smile he doesn't feel, because something's made Roman down and it's worrying at Deniz. "He said something about extra training, but I think he's actually spending time with Franziska." He tries for a conspiratorial smile, and manages to coax an answering grin out of Roman.

Roman worries his keys between his fingers. "Probably."

Deniz gives in to his impulses, and steps forward to close his hand over Roman's. "Hey."

Roman's smile is lopsided as he looks up at Deniz, and when Deniz leans in to give him a brief kiss, he responds but leaves it at that.

"Everything okay with you?" Deniz asks, trying for light.

Roman nods. "Yes, everything's okay. I'm just a bit tired, that's all."

Something, somewhere sets off Deniz's bullshit detector (a family trait, inherited from Marian), but he doesn't know how to approach this without a fight, and somewhere deep inside, a little flame of fear ignites; Roman is keeping secrets, not telling him his worries, and Deniz can't help but be afraid.

He nods. "Okay. Go lie down for a bit, and I'll see about dinner."

"You?" Roman replies. "Cook?"

Deniz looks mock offended, and kisses the tip of Roman's nose. "I'll keep it simple, promise."

Roman nods. "Okay. But don't burn the place down." He points a warning finger at Deniz, and he's only half joking.

Deniz smiles. "Go."

"Wake me for dinner, okay?"

Deniz nods. "Promise."

\--

Flo comes home halfway through cooking, detects Deniz in the kitchen doing something with pans, and instantly looks suspicious. Deniz smiles. "Don't worry. I promised your brother I wouldn't burn the flat down."

Flo laughs, easy and carefree, the sound of a teenager in requited love, and Deniz isn't the least bit envious, because he remembers himself at that age, and knows how much learning Flo yet has to do. He tries, sometimes, to make it easier on the kid that it was for himself, but more often than not, he's out of his depth.

They're so different, the Wild brothers, not quite like night and day but close: Roman skittish and cynical, Flo enthusiastic and mild tempered. Flo is what Roman could have been, what Deniz was, once, and it stabs at his heart to realise that Roman lost that innocence at far too young an age.

Roman, whom Deniz loves with every fibre he's got. It's taken him long enough to accept, but he knows, now, that Roman is the one and that that's not going to change. He can't imagine a life that doesn't include Roman, can't imagine a thing he wouldn't do for him.

" _Deniz_. The sauce is boiling over!" Florian is reaching past him to turn the stove down, and in the back of his mind, Deniz can hear Roman complain about what Deniz is doing to his precious ceramic stovetop, and can't help but smile. Nonetheless, he grabs a dish towel and lifts the hot pan into the sink, using a cloth to wipe the worst of the mess off.

He might still daydream from time to time, but he's used to being practical now as well.

"What are we having?" Flo interrupts, impatiently eyeing the sauce, evaluating its edibility.

"Spaghetti," Deniz replies, placing the sauce pan back on the stove and stirring its contents.

" _Again_?" Flo complains loudly.

"Yes," Deniz replies, "again."

There are days, now, with Flo in the house, that Deniz reminds himself of his father. He comprehends better how careful a balance Marian's attempts at being both understanding and authoritative must have been, how hard it is to have a seventeen year old dumped on your doorstep. And the balance is harder sometimes, with Flo, because Roman is inclined to believe the worst of him and equally easily hurt. Okay, Flo doesn't get up to the sort of antics Deniz managed (although he's got close), but the balance is difficult, nonetheless.

Flo surprises him by spontaneously getting plates out of the cupboard and laying the table. "Where's Roman?"

"He went to lie down," Deniz replies, focussing on chopping tomatoes for the salad, and glancing briefly over his shoulder. Flo pauses in the middle of laying down forks.

"Is he okay?"

Florian's eyes are like Roman's, clear blue and vivid. The concern in them is easy to read, and Deniz gives him a reassuring smile. "He's just tired."

"He's tired a lot," Flo replies, skittishly, and his fringe falls over his eyes. He pushes it back, then turns away to grab a glass and fill it at the tap.

"He's fine," Deniz says, practising the first rule of adulthood: don't worry the kids. "It's just his job. You know how Roman gets."

And he realises Flo doesn't, really. Yes, he's been here a few months, but he never really shared much of a childhood with Roman. Flo nods anyway. "Yeah," he says, and drinks half the glass.

Deniz chucks the tomatoes into the bowl with chopped cucumber, shakes it a few times, and considers the salad tossed. "I'll go wake him," he says. "Keep an eye on dinner, okay?"

Florian waves absentmindedly. "Whatever."

\--

Roman is turned away from the window, on top of the covers, curled up into a compact ball. His eyes are closed but Deniz isn't sure if he's sleeping; in any case, he doesn't open them when Deniz comes in.

He kneels by the side of the bed and runs his fingers through Roman's hair. It's getting long again, the way Deniz likes it, until it starts falling into Roman's eyes and he has it cut. Roman blinks, pushing into the touch without thought. "Hey."

"Hey," Deniz replies, and something about Roman's expression tugs at his heartstrings. "Dinner's ready."

"Okay." Roman pushes himself up. "I'll be right there."

Deniz doesn't move for a moment, then leans in to brush his mouth against Roman's. He feels Roman's hand against his cheek, and when he leans back, Roman is wearing an amused, affectionate expression. "You all right?"

Deniz ducks his head. "Yes."

Roman scrutinises him a bit longer, then nods and swings his legs over the side. "What's for dinner?"

\--

Flo is complaining about work, which is ridiculous because the alternative is school, and Deniz tells him so.

"Yes, but--" Flo begins.

"Nonsense," Roman interrupts, pointing his fork at Flo, "you know he's right. You wanted to throw your education away. You know that's fine with me, but don't complain when you have to start at the bottom. Hard work never killed anybody, and you should be happy you've got a job when--"

He stops mid sentence, and Florian is looking at him oddly, frowning and pulling back. Deniz looks from one to the other. "Roman? Did I miss something?"

Roman's eyes meet Flo's, skittering away to Deniz and then to his plate; he takes a large gulp of water and nearly chokes, managing to swallow at the last moment. "It's nothing," he says, his voice hoarse, and Deniz can't tell if it's from emotion or just water gone down the wrong way.

Flo gives Roman one last odd look, and then suddenly changes the topic to ice hockey, and after one more moment of confusion, Deniz engages him on the subject, discusses tactics and moves while Roman's eyes glaze over.

Deniz leans over to him. "Bored?"

Roman smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes again. "No, it's _totally cool_ ," he mocks, rolling his eyes, and Deniz can't help but laugh.

\--

He and Florian play at the games console for most of the night, while Roman sits at the table and marks out training plans and choreographies. When Deniz gets up to get drinks or snacks, he can't resist running his hand over Roman's shoulders in passing, and the smiles he's rewarded with is a little more grateful than he thinks he's earned.

He knows they need to talk; knows that the fragile peace he's been holding onto for so long needs to be broken one day, and it might as well be today. Fear can't be holding him back, and in any case, the road of secrets is what nearly destroyed them, more than once.

Florian goes off to bed at some point, saying something about an early shift, and he looks relaxed and happy and not worried any more. Deniz is grateful for that; he remembers nights of lying in his bed as a child, hearing his parents argue. One memorable time, Marian threw glasses at his mother, and shortly after that, divorce became the only solution.

When he tries to imagine Flo's childhood, he fails, skittering over half-known facts with very little to go on.

"Deniz?"

Roman's voice, unmistakably. No one twists his mouth around the syllables of Deniz's name in half caress, half mockery but Roman. Roman enunciates the 'z' in Deniz's name the same way he carefully enunciates everything, and it's come to the point where Deniz will miss the sound of Roman saying his name when they're apart.

He turns to look at Roman and realises he's still standing in the middle of the living room after clearing the games console away. "Hmm?"

"Something misfire in your brain?" Roman asks, smiling.

Deniz frowns, confused. "What?"

"You know," Roman says, capping his pen and pushing his papers away, "when your mind gives conflicting commands and you can't remember what you're doing? So you're standing there, going, should I turn left, should I turn right, where was I going again?"

Deniz manages a half smile. Better than, _a penny for them_ , because he's not sure Roman would thank him for where his thoughts have been lately.

Roman gets up, comes over to him. "Are you tired?"

It could be a come on, but it isn't; there's genuine concern colouring Roman's voice. "Uh, yes," Deniz replies, not quite truthfully.

"Deniz..."

He reaches out and runs fingers over Roman's face, sliding a hand into his hair because he can.

Roman frowns, carefully reaching up to cover Deniz's hand with his own. There's a tipping point, when Deniz can't bear the love in his eyes any more, and simply pulls Roman to him, fitting them together. Roman held in the circle of his arms means Roman is safe, is with him, isn't leaving, and if Deniz is holding on a bit too hard, he'll deal with that later.

Roman makes a noise of surprise, but returns the embrace, puts his chin on Deniz's shoulder and holds him close, one hand stroking Deniz's back.

When they come apart, Deniz ducks his head, not wanting to be seen and read by the only person who's perceptive enough to get inside his defences.

Roman is tilting his head, trying to meet his eyes. "You okay?"

Deniz nods. "Let's go to bed."

\--

When he slides between cool sheets, Roman is already there, his bedside lamp still switched on, but he's not really reading the magazine he's got open in his lap. He doesn't pretend to, either, but puts it away when Deniz folds his long frame into their bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Roman, bless him, doesn't sound hesitant in the slightest. When it comes to emotions, he confronts them head on, and it's Deniz who's scared more often. For all his mature awareness that they need to talk about the too many things that have gone unsaid, he fears and dreads it.

"No," he says honestly, but then looks at Roman and tries a lopsided smile. "But I think... we should."

He sees the moment that Roman realises what's on the table, or at least what might be, and his eyes skid away before they come back. "Okay. Then tell me."

Deniz looks for a starting point, for something that he can explain, but everything inside his head sounds like an accusation, and he doesn't want to accuse. They've had enough of that. "What happened at dinner?" he asks instead, because he can seize on that safely, and he wants answers for that, too.

Roman looks away. "Okay..." He takes a deep breath. "Is that what this about? Me and Flo?"

There's hurt playing like an undercurrent in Roman's voice, and when he looks back at Deniz, his eyes are wet. _Shit_. Whatever it is Deniz stumbled on, it isn't pretty. He shakes his head. "It's not about you and Flo. Not just, in any case. I just want..." He sighs. "Roman--"

Roman waits, no doubt avoiding the question Deniz posed.

"Look," Deniz says, "I can't explain it, okay? And I didn't want to say something, but I don't want either of us to keep secrets, because you were right about that, that destroys everything. But lately, you..." Deniz briefly touches Roman's cheek, then drops his hand away. "Do you think I don't notice when something's bothering you? Hurting you? When you don't tell me, when you lie to me when I ask, I start to think what might be on your mind, and I believe you, I really do, I know you want to be with me and I'm trying here."

Roman's fingers curl around his hand. "It's not what you think."

Deniz looks up.

"You have to believe me. It's not Marc. That's not what's on my mind." Roman's eyes are imploring, and Deniz nods, because he believes him, he really does, even if just Roman saying the name evokes a stab of jealousy and pain so fierce he wants to curl up and shy away.

"I believe you," Deniz says slowly, and squeezes Roman's hand.

"And this evening..." Roman's voice trails off briefly, and he takes a deep breath, steeling himself like Deniz used to watch him do before skating a difficult choreo. "I told you about my father, my home. Now that Flo's around, it can be... hard."

Yes, Roman had told him. After years of hiding his past, he came clean when he had to, and poured out a lifetime of pain and misery and anguish into Deniz's unsuspecting embrace. So much of that was beginning to make sense, fitting the missing pieces to the delicate, brittle puzzle that makes up Roman. Deniz still feels the betrayal of that moment when he realised Roman had been anything but truthful with him, but realises also, now, that they never dealt with it.

He has to touch Roman, brings Roman's fingers to his lips and kisses his knuckles. Roman closes his eyes, his breath shaky and fast.

"Why?" Deniz says, even though those are not the words he wanted to say, "Why did you never tell me?"

Roman shakes his head, and Deniz is thrown back to that morning in the park. Roman shivering and crying, pouring out his confession and his guilt and the sins that were never his. Roman, who in his guilt and fear could not let himself ask for or expect Deniz's compassion, when that had been exactly all that Deniz had felt in that moment.

"Come here," he says now, like he did then. Roman looks at him, eyes swimming with tears and confusion, and Deniz pulls him in, until Roman wraps his arms around him in turn and clutches at his shoulders.

"I wanted to tell you," Roman says moments later, pulling back and wiping his eyes. "You don't know how many times. At first, I just wanted to forget, and we weren't together that long, and it didn't seem important, and then later... So much happened between us, Deniz, and it became too big for me to say, and you were... I didn't think you needed to know, because it was in the past. I'm sorry. I'm really so sorry."

"Ssh." Deniz wipes some stray tears away. "I know."

Roman nods, breathing slowly and consciously. "This evening, at dinner..."

"That's what that was about, wasn't it?" Deniz guesses. "Something about your childhood."

"I-- I s-sounded just like my father," Roman confesses. Deniz can imagine that horror; he doesn't mind too much sounding like his own father sometimes, but at the most, there's embarrassment there and not a reflection of a man who made his life hell.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.

Roman looks at him hesitantly, and he knows there's another throwback to the past there, because he's thinking it: a night on their sofa with a box of memories, Roman's assurances and his own insecurities, and he feels a flash of bitterness at his own contrition, then.

"I would love to just forget about it," Roman says, with a weary sigh.

"You don’t have to," Deniz offers, and he means it, because this really can wait until they're both in a better headspace.

Roman looks at him, runs a hand over Deniz's hair in a familiar caress of affection. "I want you to know," he says, insistently, "I've always wanted you to know. I want to talk to you about it."

"But it isn't easy?" Deniz guesses.

"Deniz, he..." Roman makes a random gesture. "Do you know how old I was before I understood that it was his fault, and not mine? That what he said made him a bad person, made him someone who deserved no r-respect? Do you know how long it took me to shake off the idea that I was a useless w-waste of sp--"

When Roman breaks down, Deniz reaches for him without thinking, pulls him close again and lets him cry. His own eyes are damp when he takes Roman's chin and forces him to look up. "I love you," he manages through his tears, "I love you because you are wonderful, and brilliant, and the best ice skater I know, and the best _man_ I know, because you are gentle and kind, always gentle with me, Roman, _always_..."

Roman nods, reaching up and kissing Deniz, and he tastes the salt of their tears on Roman's lips, and he has to pull Roman down so they can lie together and Deniz can wrap him up in a warm embrace, chin pressed against Roman's temple.

Roman settles against him, head on Deniz's shoulder, arm around Deniz's waist. "I really wanted to tell you."

"I believe you," Deniz says again, fingers combing through Roman's hair.

They lie in silence for a while. "Is it hard," Deniz asks, "seeing Flo?"

Roman lifts his head, looks Deniz in the eye. "What, seeing him have something I never had? Yes." He lies back down with a sigh. "I'm jealous of my little brother, even though I know he didn't have it easy either." He runs idly fingers over Deniz's chest. "I suppose that makes me a bad person, but--" he lifts his head again "--when I got out of Gunzenhausen, finally had my freedom, yes, I was happy, but-- if I hadn't had skating to focus on, I think I would have gone to pieces."

Deniz nods, because he cannot find words in that moment. He knows a lot of this is connected to Marc, that he was the person who helped Roman through it because he'd known about it. (He had, and Deniz hadn't.) And Roman is carefully editing around Marc's presence, which makes Deniz weirdly grateful, and makes him understand why they never really discussed this. This truth was too big; not only Roman's childhood, but the complex histories that came with it.

"Deniz?" Roman asks carefully.

"Flo is happier than you were," Deniz says.

Roman nods. "Does that make me really awful?"

"No." Deniz pushes up to kiss Roman's nose. "No, it doesn't."

Roman thoughtlessly toys with the edge of the blankets. "I don't wish on him w-what happened to me, I really don't. But I feel sick knowing that he can love him, and not me."

Deniz knows a bit about parental rejection, but he and his mother grew apart and his problems became things she couldn't understand or solve. Marian stepped up when he needed to, and Deniz has, for better or worse, always known he has a parent he can rely on. The rejection that Roman has faced, from an early age, for simply being who he was and doing what he wanted, is not familiar to him at all. "How old were you?"

"Eight," Roman manages, voice shaking. "I was eight, and I l-liked to skate, and to him that made me-- made me a dirty f-faggot, and the fact that I was-- I was his son made me something worse."

Deniz tightens his embrace, but he can't solve this, can't make this better. He can love Roman, and he does, so very much, and it makes him furious to know that the brittle cracks that bisect Roman's sweet, gentle personality are caused by the person who was supposed to love and protect him. "What about your mother?" he asks cautiously.

Roman plucks at a loose thread on the blanket. "He treated her much like he treated me, sometimes. Well, no. He loved her." There's a bitter twist to his voice. "He was nice to her a lot, also, and to me, he was never--" He wipes his nose with the back of his hand. "Sometimes, he could be nasty to her, too. She tried to love me more to make up for him, I suppose."

Deniz kisses Roman's hair. "I'm sorry."

"It's in the past, Deniz." Roman lifts his head to look at him. "It really is."

Deniz runs his fingers over Roman's cheek. Roman's eyes are swollen and red rimmed. "And that's why you are so comfortable seeing Flo around the house?"

Roman bites his lip, and Deniz kicks himself for being harsh. He opens his mouth to apologise, but Roman stops him. "It's in the past," he repeats. "That doesn't mean it's something I find easy, but I'm okay with it."

 _I don't think you are_ , Deniz thinks, but doesn't know how to say that. He nods carefully. "All right."

"I really did want to tell you," Roman says again.

"I believe you," Deniz repeats.

"I promise you, I'm not keeping secrets from you, ever again. _Any_ secrets."

Deniz kisses him at that, not so much in gratitude for the promise as to avoid the direction his thoughts are taking. Roman deepens the kiss, reaches for him and rolls them back, and this is a distraction that's even better.

\--

When he comes home the next day, Roman's already there and cooking, stirring two pans at the same time while humming something vaguely familiar that Deniz couldn't name without being seriously uncool.

"Hey," Roman says, and his welcoming smile is wide and genuine, and for a moment, it takes Deniz's breath away.

He drops his bag and crosses the flat, kissing Roman properly until his boyfriend drops the spoons, one clattering to the floor, and Roman pulls away at the sound, but Deniz simply drags him back for a second kiss.

"I-- let me--" Roman says against his lips, and Deniz smiles.

"Uh uh," he murmurs, and slides a hand under Roman's sweater (an odd stripy number that could only possibly suit Roman, and yet Deniz can't resist it.) Roman laughs against his mouth and slides his hand into Deniz's hair. "Do we have time?" Deniz asks, laughter startled out of him when Roman hooks a thumb into his waistband.

"Flo will--hmm--be here--"

"--any minute," Deniz concludes.

Roman pulls back a few inches and nods. "We should--"

Deniz doesn't care what they should, not while Roman is looking so radiant, so happy, and he kisses him again, wandering from Roman's mouth to Roman's neck, letting his hand stray up Roman's stomach to his chest, and kissing away Roman's sharp intake of breath when Deniz runs a practiced thumb over a nipple.

"Deniz--" Roman's voice is half warning, half passionate, and he's sliding his hand into the back of Deniz's trousers, under his boxers, and Deniz is growing harder by the second, and can feel an answering heat against his thigh.

He pulls back a second, and they stare at each other for a moment, and then Roman pushes, walking them back until they land against the kitchen table, and Deniz slides onto it and wraps long legs around Roman's waist. Roman kisses him, kisses down to his neck and unbuttons Deniz's shirt with his free hand, leaving trails of warm fingers on Deniz's skin.

"Promise me..." Deniz says breathlessly, and Roman flicks his eyes up briefly. "Promise me we'll do this properly tonight."

Roman chuckles against his skin, soft breaths tickling his chest. Deniz looks down at Roman; he's not a demanding lover, usually, but right now he only wants one thing. Roman stares back as if Deniz has challenged him out loud, and then follows his fingers with lips and tongue, sinking down slowly while holding Deniz's gaze. Deniz throws his head back and closes his eyes, trying to catch his breath; whatever else changed between them over the years, the sex is always, always good.

He doesn't hear the lock turn or registers its meaning, and neither does Roman; suddenly they hear the sound of keys hitting the floor and Florian's heartfelt, "Oh, _ew_! Do you _have_ to?!"

Deniz's eyes snap open and he shoots upright, looking over his shoulder to see Flo's distasteful expression. In front of him, Roman straightens up, and when Deniz looks back at him, he catches the way Roman schools his face into anger.

"What, kid? Never seen two adults kissing before?" Roman snaps. Deniz looks at him from under his lashes, less concerned with Flo's immaturity and more concerned with the hurt he's seen cross Roman's features before he'd carefully hidden it.

"Excuse me," Flo shoots back, "but that was a bit more than kissing, and I really don't want to walk in on you two--" he makes a gesture, flushing a bit, and finishes with, "--you know."

Roman steps away from the table and confronts Florian. "No, I don't know. What? Sex? Love? Two men together?"

Florian frowns, anger making his eyes spark. "Oh, come off it! Just because I don't want to see you two together, doesn't mean--" he gestures again, "--anything!"

"I told you that there are rules in this house," Roman replies, voice low and threatening, "and if you don't like them, you can turn around and go back to Gunzenhausen, because that's where you seem to belong."

"Roman--" Deniz tries to interject, but both brothers ignore him.

"Easy enough for you, huh?" Florian taunts. "You run away and don't even give a damn about me or our family! You think I belong there? What the hell do you know, anyway?"

"You talk like it often enough," Roman replies, raising his voice. "And I've had eighteen years of being talked to like that, I'm not having it now, not in my own house, not from our father, and not from you!"

Flo stares at him, eyes wild, and then grabs his keys off the floor. "I hate you!" he yells with the maturity of a teenager, and slams the door on his way out.

Deniz goes to Roman and puts a hand on his shoulder, but Roman shrugs him off. "Please," he says, voice rough, "don't."

Deniz lets his hand fall to his side. "Okay..."

Roman looks up, wiping at his eyes. "Just give me a moment, okay?"

Deniz nods, steps back and returns to the kitchen, turning down the stove in an attempt to rescue dinner, even though he doubts any of them will eat much. When he turns back around, Roman is still standing where Deniz left him.

"Shit!" Roman bursts out. "Fuck!" They look at each other. "I can't do this," Roman says, and it breaks Deniz's heart. He holds out a hand. Roman comes into his arms, leaning his face against Deniz's shoulder while Deniz strokes his hair.

"I'll talk to him," he promises. Roman says nothing.

\--

He finds Flo in No. 7, playing pinball like his life depends on it, and Deniz catches Marian's concerned eyes when he comes in. He gives his father a nod and heads for the teenager, and Marian automatically pours him a coke. It appears on the pinball machine in passing, and Deniz picks it up and takes a sip.

Flo glances sideways at him. "What?"

Deniz shrugs. "Don't mind me. I'm not the one you have a problem with. Or am I?"

The ball rolls down at an awkward angle, and Florian makes a last ditch effort to rescue it by hammering both buttons at once, but he loses anyway. "Look," he says, looking at the wall some two inches over Deniz's head, "I don't have a problem with you two being-- I mean-- well, you know."

Deniz moves into Flo's line of sight, forcing eye contact. "You're not being very convincing when you can't even say the word."

"Fine! So you're _gay_." Florian rakes a hand through his hair. "Do I care?"

Deniz sips his cola. "Your brother thinks you do."

Flo looks at his shoes for a bit, then at Deniz from under his fringe. "And you? What do you think?"

 _I think you're trying to be okay with it, because you know Roman will throw you out if you're not. And I think this is something you aren't okay with, because you probably spent your whole life being told that the brother you barely remember, the brother you only know through newspaper clippings, is no great role model. And the truth is different, now._

He doesn't say any of that. "I think you find it hard to adjust."

Florian kicks the pinball machine, absently, without great force, and Deniz catches Marian's assessing glance. "Look," Flo says again, "it wouldn't be any different if you'd been a girl, all right? I mean, I wouldn't want to walk in on Roman with some chick, either, it's not like--"

"I'm not a girl," Deniz reminds him, and he can't help the steel that seeps into his voice. "And Roman..."

"Yeah, I know, he's sensitive." Flo meets his eyes. "I'll be nicer to him."

Deniz slams his hand down on the pinball machine. "Don't talk about things you have no idea about, Flo."

"Like what?" Blue eyes are challenging him now, the way Deniz used to challenge everyone at Florian's age; his father, Roman, Vanessa, anyone who would suggest he was making mistakes.

"Roman is not 'sensitive'. At least, no more than he should be. You've no idea what his life has been like."

"I was five! How many times do I need to say that?"

Deniz shakes his head. "This isn't about that. Do you think that after your father, no one ever gave Roman a hard time about being gay again?"

Florian looks away, face colouring. He's so not comfortable with that word, with the two of them, and Deniz knows it. Flo looks back and searches his face. "And you? Anyone ever give you a hard time?"

Deniz's gut instinct is to say this isn't about him, but he knows damn well that he's in the middle of this, too. Even if he doesn't care that Flo is uncomfortable seeing him with Roman, even if he can more easily shrug off questionable comments and distasteful glances, because he doesn't have Roman's background, doesn't have Roman's experiences, and isn't related to Florian, he's in this because he wants, needs to protect Roman. "Yeah, they have."

Flo looks at him expectantly.

Deniz swallows away memories and self-loathing. "It wasn't just stupid lines and annoying jokes. For me or for Roman. You don't need to know the details, but it was ugly." Roman's career, shattered, Deniz's guilt, the things that brought them together and the vow that Deniz made for himself; no one will ever hurt Roman again if Deniz can prevent it. He will still stand between anyone --anything in the world-- and Roman, even if it is only Florian.

"Look, I didn't know, okay?"

"No," Deniz replies, "not okay. I get that you're not comfortable seeing us... together, and I get that you're seventeen and anything to do with sex is embarrassing. But find a way to deal with this, because this isn't fair on Roman, and I don't want to see him hurt. That's where _I_ draw the line, okay?"

Flo nods, contrite. "I'm sorry, Deniz."

"Apologise to Roman," Deniz replies.

"I will, promise."

Deniz briefly pats Flo's shoulder. "Okay, then we're cool."

Flo gives him a lopsided smile, and returns to the pinball machine.

\--

Roman is already in bed when they come home, and it's such a clear _keep out_ sign that Deniz says, "Best talk to him in the morning, okay?" Florian nods, and Deniz tries to reassure him. "It'll be okay. Go get some sleep."

"Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Deniz slips into the bedroom, and finds Roman, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.

"Is he back?"

"Yes," Deniz replies, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off. "And he's sorry."

"Hmm." Roman doesn't look like he believes it. "I'm sure he is."

"He wants to talk to you," Deniz says while unlacing his shoes. "I told him to wait till morning, since I assumed you retreating in here meant you didn't want to talk to him just yet."

Roman makes a face. "Retreating?"

"Shut up," Deniz replies, stepping out of his trousers. "You both just need a bit of time."

Roman sits up, plucking at the covers. "I don't know if this is about time."

Deniz pulls off his t-shirt, and stops short at the expression on Roman's face. "Are you serious?"

"Well, how long has he been living here? You'd think he'd be used to us by now."

"After seventeen years of indoctrination?" Deniz shoots back. "I don't know, I think he might need time."

"Yes, because we're so icky."

"Roman..." Deniz sits on the foot end of the bed, laying a hand over Roman's leg under the covers. "You said yourself that it took you time, after you left home. Can you imagine Flo needs some time as well?"

Roman rubs his foot against Deniz's arm. "Okay, okay, I get it. You're on his side."

"I'm on no one's side!" Deniz argues. "Roman, he's seventeen. Most of his life, he's been told..." He trails off, trying to find words that aren't hurtful.

Roman fills them in for him. "That I'm his disgusting, good for nothing, faggot brother whom he should be glad is not around to give him gay cooties."

The bitterness in Roman's voice makes Deniz realise that he's repeating words, not coming up with them on the spot. He has to swallow past the heartbreak that insight evokes. "Roman..." he manages.

"Yeah." Roman sighs. "But I should be considerate and give him another chance."

Deniz looks at him, but Roman's staring at the wall, refusing to meet his eyes. "He's not your father," he tries, and Roman turns his head then, eyes flashing. Deniz is abruptly aware they're suddenly on very thin ground.

"What would you know about that? Where were you when my father was here, slapping me around and making my life hell for a second time, because my little brother needed a refuge and had decided I was it? Whose idea was it again, that Flo should stay here because he was after all my brother? Hmm?"

In a flash of anger, Deniz stands up, backing away from the bed. "And you're blaming me for that? I was working, assuming that you'd call if anything was wrong instead of running to your ex at the first sign of trouble! But no, wait, you didn’t need me to come back, oh no, because you were finding your comfort in Marc's fucking arms!"

Roman drops his gaze to the bed, and Deniz runs a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath and trying to push away the feeling of intense, burning pain sitting in his chest.

"This..." Roman starts, making a gesture.

Deniz swallows. "I'm sorry," he manages, his voice raw to his own ears. "I shouldn't have brought that up."

"Deniz..." Roman meets his eyes this time. "I know I hurt you, I'm sorry--"

"No." Deniz cuts him off. "I don't want to go over that again." He can't breathe for the pain, the pain that consumed him for weeks and weeks. He'd spent torturous long days full of hurt and anguish, and the only person who'd ever been able to make him feel better was the man who'd betrayed him so very, very deeply.

Roman pulls up his knees and rests his elbows on them. Deniz sits on the edge of the bed again, and the chasm between them is suddenly greater than since they got back together.

"Please come to bed," Roman says at long last. "You'll catch cold."

Deniz nods, feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears, and he slides into bed, but doesn't turn to Roman, and Roman carefully stays on his own end.

\--

He wakes to find Roman has turned towards him in the night, one hand outstretched to Deniz's side of the bed, the rest of him curled up into a tight ball.

So much about Roman can be seen with one glance, at least by Deniz, all the things he carries inside. He sees the way Roman is trying desperately to hold back and not ask for what he needs.

Was that the problem between them? That Roman couldn't or wouldn't ask? Or was it circumstance, or just sheer bad luck, or should Deniz have paid more attention? He's never understood what went wrong, never even really known that something was wrong until he walked into the flat to see Roman kissing Marc, making promises to Marc.

The tears are burning in his eyes and he doesn't want Roman to see. He's told Roman he's forgiven him, and he has, and he believes it won't ever happen again. There's no one else like Marc, not for Roman, and Marc's gone.

His mouth tastes bitter and Deniz slides out of bed, careful not to wake his boyfriend. He sneaks tiptoe into the bathroom, letting the shower wash away the evidence of his tears and anger. He feels better, or at least more whole, when he comes out, and he finds Flo and Roman sitting around the kitchen table.

Roman looks up, and there's hesitance and hurt in his eyes, and by god, Deniz wants to wrap him up and make him forget, wants to apologise for things that aren't even his own fault, wants to kiss Roman's skin until he has forgotten anyone who's ever hurt him.

It still scares him to love this much because he doesn't know how to say it, doesn't know what to do with it, and because it hurts, like a gaping wound in his chest.

Deniz gives Roman a small smile, and Roman perks up, smiling back. He sits down with the two and looks from Flo back to Roman. "So, did you two talk?"

Flo nods, glancing from Deniz to Roman and down to his plate. Roman smiles. "We've had a talk."

It doesn't look like anyone got thrown out of the house, and Flo looks like he can live with himself and with his brother, so Deniz doesn't ask. If either of them wants to tell him, they will.

Roman scrapes his chair back and gets up. "I'm sorry," he says, and looks at Deniz, "but I have an early training session and..."

Deniz nods, too quickly. "We'll talk later."

Roman looks relieved. "Okay. Till then, yeah?" He bends over to kiss Deniz's cheek, and only grabs his coat before he's out the door. Deniz watches him leave.

"Everything okay with you?" Flo asks.

"Everything's fine," Deniz replies absentmindedly. "Don't worry."

"You're not going to break up again, are you?" Flo says, and his face is drawn, like a worried child watching their parents fight. Deniz knows the expression.

"No," he says, and finds energy for a reassuring smile. "We're not breaking up."

\--

He finds Roman in the locker room at lunch time, and it's like the old days, when they were both still athletes and would constantly end up together in here.

Deniz looks around, the cheap tiles, the red lockers that are showing wear in the corners, and the showers that at least always provide enough hot water. He's getting older and so are the places they live in.

Roman looks at him from the bench he's sitting on, not getting up, not doing anything except holding still.

"I love you," Deniz says.

"I love you, too," Roman replies automatically, and his eyes are a little damp, reflecting fear.

"No," Deniz continues, shaking his head a little, and takes a seat in front of Roman. "I love you. And sometimes, you scare the hell out of me, because I love you so, so much." He takes a deep, shaky breath. He has no idea where he's going with this, but it needs to be said. He reaches out and runs his fingers over Roman's hair. Roman pushes into the touch, eyes sliding shut. He opens them again when Deniz continues. "I can't lose you again. There's-- Roman, I'm so fucking scared, you don't know-- I don't even know what to do with it, it's just--"

"Ssh." Roman reaches for him, pulls him closer. "Ssh, Deniz, it's okay, it's all right."

He lets himself be pulled into Roman's arms, presses his nose into Roman's hair, holds on tighter than he should. "I'm sorry about last night. I didn't want to bring it up, I didn't mean for it to come out like that."

"Me, too." Roman strokes his hair. "I shouldn't have accused you, that was unfair of me."

Deniz nods against Roman's shoulder. "It's okay." He pulls back, looks Roman in the eye. "It's really okay."

Roman kisses the tip of his nose. "Yes?"

"Yes," Deniz confirms.

"Deniz?"

"Hmm?" He steals a quick kiss.

"You don't have to be scared."

He nods, but it doesn't ease the fear. Roman leans in to kiss him, properly, and Deniz closes his eyes. All of it needs time.

\--

At night, in bed, when he's lying with his head on Roman's stomach and Roman's fingers are carding through his hair, Deniz asks, "So did you sort everything with Flo?"

"Little Flo..." Roman sighs. "Yes, we talked. He apologised."

Deniz flicks his eyes to Roman's face, the bitterness openly visible in Roman's expression. "It's not his fault, Roman."

"Yes, it is." Roman meets his eyes. "Okay, maybe it isn't. Not completely. I'm just so tired of clearing up after my father."

"Flo can take care of himself," Deniz says. He finds Roman's free hand and brings Roman's fingers to his lips. "He just needs time to get used to everything."

"Everything. Lovely word. Why don't you just say he needs to get used to us? To me? To gays?"

"He will," Deniz tells him.

"Hmm." Roman is silent for a while. "Deniz..."

"Yes?"

"Did you mean it, this afternoon, what you said to me in the locker room?"

"That I love you? Of course." Deniz struggles to sit up.

"No, not that." Roman squeezes his hand. "Well, also that, but I know you meant that. About being scared."

Deniz ducks his head. "Yes, I meant that."

Roman holds his eyes. "You really don't have to be scared."

Deniz nods. "I know."

Roman sighs. "That's not the same as feeling it, is it?"

Deniz bites his lip, but there's no way that this, this thing between them, isn't eventually going to hurt either or both of them. The truth should be more important. It doesn't make it easier, but he says it nonetheless. "No, it isn't."

Roman nods, quickly, looking down at the sheets. "Okay."

"It takes time," Deniz adds, "I think."

Roman looks at him. "Okay," he says again. After a moment, he leans in to kiss Deniz. "I know I don't have a right to it, but I'm afraid, too."

Deniz feels a flare of protective passion, of wanting to shield Roman even from these legitimate emotions that they both have to work through. Then a flash of fear, jealousy, and pain: they got to this point and that he didn't notice. If they aren't going to keep talking, they will never move away from this. He sits up properly, pulls away a little. Belatedly, he realises how this must appear to Roman, and looks over his shoulder. Roman's face is that mask of careful expectation of the worst. "I know," Deniz says softly. "And I understand."

Roman swallows, shifting a bit. "Okay," he says with a nod, and tries a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "We just need a bit of time."

Deniz looks at him again. "Promise me you'll talk to me."

Roman meets his eyes like a bunny caught in the headlights. "I promise."

" _Baby_ ," is all Deniz manages to say, and he slides back into Roman's embrace.

\--

When he comes home the next day, Florian is puttering around the kitchen with a stressed expression on his face, and when he sees Deniz, he quickly puts a finger to his lips, pointing to the sofa. Deniz peeks over the back of it to discover Roman fast asleep under the comforter. He joins Flo in the kitchen.

"Do you know," Flo says in a stage whisper, "how hard cooking is?"

"Yes," Deniz replies, voice low. He looks at the various ingredients for spaghetti littering the worktops, the ceramic stovetop the only island of cleanliness in the whole kitchen.

"What goes first?" Flo asks with desperation tingeing his voice. "I don't know what goes first, and should the water boil before I put the spaghetti in?"

"Yes," Deniz says again, and smiles. "The water should boil first. How about you start with a pan of water, hmm?"

"Roman makes it look so _easy_ ," Florian complains as he carefully extracts a pan from the cupboard and brings it to the tap.

"You never had to cook at home, then?" Deniz asks.

"No, my mother always cooked." Florian puts a lid on the pan, lifts it off again, holding it an inch or two above the pan, and looks at Deniz.

Deniz nods, and Florian replaces the lid. It feels illicit to ask Florian about his childhood, feels strange to be doing this with Roman asleep so close by. Yet it's also comforting to have them all at home like this. He shakes the feeling off. "Your father worked and your mother did the housekeeping?"

"Pretty much," Flo replies, putting the pan carefully on the stovetop and turning it on. "How high?"

Deniz reaches over and shows him.

"How about you?" Florian asks.

"My parents divorced when I was ten," Deniz tells him. "I lived with my mother until I was seventeen, and then I came over here."

"That's when you met Roman."

"Yes."

Florian stares at the pan of water as if he's willing it to boil. Deniz moves around him to get some vegetables from the fridge. "Cut these."

Flo stares at the tomatoes in a brief confusion, then gets a cutting board and a knife from the cupboard, and starts chopping. "So you had to help out at home?"

"Sometimes." Deniz smiles. "My father always works at dinner time, so I used eat at No. 7. My mother made me help out around the house, though. But I'm a disaster in the kitchen."

"You manage spaghetti," Florian replies, and looks at Deniz as if that is no mean feat.

"Yes, but only spaghetti. You should ask your brother about the first time I cooked for him." Briefly, he remembers the candlelight dinner they had before he left for New York. Before everything changed. He shakes his head.

"Deniz?" Florian says, and his voice sounds hesitant. "You know I don't really think-- anything about you and Roman, right? I mean, that you're together and all that."

He knows. Sometimes, it feels like Deniz knows Flo better than his brother does. He glances over his shoulder at Roman curled up on the sofa. "It's okay, Flo."

Florian shrugs his shoulders defensively. "I don't want you --either of you-- to think that I'm not grateful I can live here. I mean-- I like you both, and I don't think anything. Honest."

Sometimes, like now, when Deniz looks sideways at Flo and sees how he's hiding his emotions beneath a veneer of attempted macho toughness, he can see the damage he sees in Roman reflected in Florian. It breaks his heart for the teenager. Flo will have it easier; straight, handsome, ice hockey fanatic instead of figure skater. Yes, Flo is the person that Roman could have been, but he's not come out unscathed.

"You don't have to worry, Flo." He waits till Florian turns his head and meets his eyes. "I believe you." Somewhere, he even knows that Roman believes Florian, loves him enough to believe the best of him instead of the worst that Roman likes to expect of people.

"Okay." Flo ducks his head. "The water's boiling," he says a moment later, and sounds relieved to change the topic.

Deniz shows him how to put the strands of spaghetti in without spilling them all over the stovetop, and they start on the sauce. Deniz is in the middle of opening the stubborn sauce jar when Florian says his name, a note of apprehension in his voice. "Deniz..."

Deniz looks at him to find Florian staring at the sofa, and Deniz turns. Roman is tossing and turning, clearly agitated in his sleep, mumbling unintelligible words and struggling with the covers.

"Shit." Roman's nightmares aren't as common now as they used to be, but he still has them. Deniz hates them every time they happen, the complex histories between them always leading back to his own guilt in Roman's misery. He puts the jar of sauce on the table in passing as he rushes to Roman's side, kneeling by the side of the sofa. "Bunny, hey."

Roman's hair is damp with sweat as Deniz puts his hand there, trying to wake him as gently as possible. A suppressed sound makes him look up to find Florian has followed him and is looking at his brother in frightened concern.

"What's wrong with him?"

"It's all right," Deniz says, and focuses back on Roman. " _Schatz_ , hey." Roman starts awake violently, indistinct words spilling from his lips. Deniz takes his hands in his own, drawing Roman's attention to himself. Roman is shaking, tears drying in the corners of his eyes, and the look of fear that Deniz is so familiar with haunting his expression. "It's okay," Deniz says, "come here."

Roman comes into his embrace with a shaky breath, clinging for a moment before he pulls back and rubs his hands over his face.

"Bad?" Deniz asks.

"Worse than it's been for a while," Roman replies, and then spots Flo hovering nearby. The brothers stare at each other awkwardly for a bit.

"Everything okay?" Flo asks, and then makes a face at his own words. "Sorry."

"Is all right," Roman says soothingly. "Don't worry; it's nothing."

Everyone in the room knows it's a lie. Preferably, Deniz would like to be alone with Roman right now, give Roman room to talk if he needs it, or room to be as emotional as he needs to be. Instead, there's dinner on the stove, and Flo's looking unnerved, hopping a little from one foot to the other.

Roman is the first to move; he swings his legs over the edge of the sofa and squeezes Deniz's shoulder as he gets up. "Were you cooking?" he says to Florian.

"Uh, yes," Flo replies, gesturing to the kitchen with relieved enthusiasm. "Spaghetti."

"Again?" Roman says.

"It's the only thing Deniz can cook." Flo looks apologetic. "He was showing me."

"It's okay," Roman tells him, and gives Florian a smile. Flo bounces over to the stove to check on the pans, and Deniz catches how Roman turns around and wipes tears from his eyes.

Their gazes meet for a second, and Roman gives him a look, half apology, half imploring him to let things be. Deniz smiles and nods; pretending everything's normal for now does make things easier for Roman. He can't stop himself from crossing the room and wrapping his arms around Roman's waist from behind, and Roman leans back against him and says, "We're going to have to get some take away menus around here again, or I'm going to eat spaghetti for the rest of my life."

"Only when you sleep through dinner," Flo says with a glance over his shoulder, and then, "Deniz, the sauce!"

Deniz lets go of Roman to show Florian how to heat sauce from a jar.

\--

"Everything changes in the end, doesn't it?" Roman says that night, as he lies in Deniz's arms.

"Hmm." Deniz kisses his hair. "Yes, I suppose. Why?"

"I never wanted us to change." Roman twists a little to look at him. "I don't mean-- I know I--"

Deniz kisses his mouth. "Say what you wanted to say."

Roman settles again. "I wanted to keep things exactly as they are. No one to come between us, us against the world. But we're getting older, and the world changes, and if we don't change with it... it breaks."

Deniz can't help himself, his first thought is still, _you broke it_. He doesn't say it, swallows against the pain in his chest. "Was it that simple?" he says. "We forgot to change? Because I didn't get that memo."

Roman puts a hand over Deniz's. "I spent so long being afraid to lose you. Not at the end, but... I know it sounds stupid, Deniz, but... it took so long for me to believe you could love me."

Deniz turns his hand palm up and links his fingers with Roman's. "I know. I didn't exactly give you reason to believe that."

Roman pulls away, sits up to turn and face him. "Deniz..." He reaches out to run his hand over Deniz's hair, and Deniz has to close his eyes because the love in Roman's expression is too much. He can still feel it in the touch of Roman's hand, and he lets it wash over him. "I didn't mean it like that, I..."

Deniz opens his eyes to see the tears on Roman's face. He wipes them away with his thumb. "Bunny..."

Roman stops him. "I need to say this."

Deniz feels a combination of terror and pure love, and he's beginning to get used to that. He nods, biting his lip to keep silent.

"It took so long for me to believe anyone could love me. Marc... Marc was the first, the first to ever just love me for who I was, for what I was, and not think I was sick. I'm not telling you this to hurt you, Deniz, I just..." Roman takes a shaky breath. "You love me, and that s-scares me, too, because I d-don't always know what it is you l-love."

Deniz pulls him, resisting, back into his arms, until Roman lets go with a sigh of relief and sinks into his embrace. Deniz strokes his hair. "Your father," he says, forcing the words past the tears threatening in his throat, "was wrong."

Roman nods against his chest. "I know."

"Yeah, here." Deniz taps his head. "But not here." He lays his palm over Roman's chest.

Roman clamps his hand over Deniz's, and they lay in silence for a while.

"Did Florian ask you anything?" Roman says at last.

"About what?"

"Me. Us. That I have nightmares."

"Not in detail," Deniz replies honestly. "But he probably will."

"He doesn't ask me."

Deniz smiles. "You're not the easiest to talk to, when it concerns Flo."

"Hmm." Roman shifts, pressing a kiss to Deniz's chest. "Okay, maybe I should give him more of a break."

"He's trying," Deniz replies.

"Yes, I know. You have faith in him. You've always had faith in him, right from the beginning, poor little Flo, the stray kitten we just had to take in--" Roman pushes up, gesturing animatedly with his free hand. He pauses when he catches sight of Deniz's face. "What?"

Deniz laughs at the way Roman is just _Roman_ , complete with exasperated cynicism and dramatic flair. He leans up to kiss Roman's nose. "I love you."

Roman pulls back and looks at him suspiciously. "Are you trying to distract me?"

Deniz slides his hand under the covers, down Roman's side and further south. "So what if I am?"

Roman's breath catches. "This isn't fair," he argues nonetheless, "you're abusing my weaknesses, you--"

"I love your weaknesses," Deniz interrupts, and kisses him properly. Roman pulls back, rubs their noses together, and kisses Deniz again, sliding on top of him.

Deniz wraps his arms around his waist, looks at Roman looking down at him, his eyes shining with happiness, with affection, with desire, with love. "Don't change," he says, unable to help the seriousness in his voice. "Don't try to fix yourself. You're not broken."

Roman's eyes mist over, and Deniz kisses him, kisses the tears from his face, until Roman whispers, "I promise," into the air between them.

\--  
 _finis_.


End file.
